Éan Sneachta Character Trailers
by Darth Cody
Summary: "Many have tried to take us down, but none have succeeded. We are the hope for this world." A multi-story series of character reveals for an upcoming story. OC-centric. All rights go to Disney. I own nothing except my OC's.
1. Unbroken

**Disclaimer: See Summary.**

**A/N: So, this is a little pet project I've had cooked up. Yes, I know, I've said that before. But I'm bored, my creative juices for my other stories are running on fumes, so I figured mixing it up might inspire me to resume those stories.**

**Now, as a twenty-something straight dude, I'm not ashamed to say that I enjoyed Frozen. Now, hear me out. I appreciate the movie on the grounds of its story. It has well-written characters, gorgeous scenery, and a top notch soundtrack (Even if hearing kids sing the songs over and over gets repetitive to the point of being annoying). My only complaint is that it hopped on the "surprise villain" train. Other than that, I think Frozen deserves its place as one of the most famous movies in Disney's repertoire, up there with The Lion King and the other films of the Disney Renaissance.**

**I'll be honest, I feel like outside of Marvel, which shows promise with Avengers: Endgame and Spider-Man: Far From Home, and Pixar, with Toy Story 4, Frozen II seems to be the most promising thing on the horizon from Disney's empire (we're just going to ignore the abomination whose backlash motivated Disney to reveal the trailer for Frozen II, okay?)**

**Anyway, with all the talk about there being other magic wielders in the Frozen canon in the second movie, I thought I'd give a story of that caliber a go. Hopefully Article 13 will be little more than a sad memory in the minds of internet goers, so I'll be able to get that far in production.**

**As for what this story is, it's going to serve as the introduction to one of the characters who will play a prominent role in the main story. Think of this as something akin to the RWBY Character trailers, where the main takeaway from this miniseries is that each story will focus on an individual character, and will show off their magical talent.**

**Also, since Frozen II doesn't come out until November, I can't say for certain that my take on the magic in Frozen will follow the rules established in canon. So don't come back to me in a few months reminding me how wrong I was when the movie comes out.**

**As I've said, there are mentions of alcohol and some violence in this story**

**With that out of the way, let's get started.**

* * *

She made her way to the bar, ignoring the looks some people, namely the drunk men, were sending her. She smiled as she stepped up to the bar. "Hey, bartender, get me my usual." She said, pulling a small handful of gold coins out of her pocket and slapping them onto the bar.

"Coming right up, lass." The bartender said cheerfully, taking the money and stashing it away. The young woman smiled as she drummed her fingers against the polished wooden countertop. Then she felt a hand on her shoulder.

"Good evening, miss." A young man who'd watched her walk in had put his hand on her shoulder. "What's a fine darling like yourself doing in a place like this?"

"Gettin' a drink." She replied bluntly, not even bothering to look at him. "I always come here on weekends to have a beer."

"Oh, you're Irish." He noted.

"What gave it away?" She asked, observing the shelves of alcohol in front of her. "My smooth accent, or the fact that I'm spending my Saturday getting booze?"

"Your accent." The man replied. "I've always had a thing for pretty dames with exotic accents."

"Well you're out of luck, man." She said, finally turning to face him. "I barely have an accent. I could show you where you could find someone with a thicker Irish accent."

"Nah, I'll just stay here and admire the view." He said, making a move to sit in the chair next to her. He was stopped by her arm.

"'Fraid I can't let you do that, sir." She said, fixing him with a warning look. "It's pay per view, and it's pretty expensive."

He reeled back, scowling. "What are you, a lesbian or something?" He asked.

She just smiled at him. "As a matter of fact, I am." She said proudly.

The man scoffed, before slicking his hair back. "Well, you ain't the first lady to use that excuse." He said. "But they always confess once they've spent a night with me."

"I was being serious." She replied firmly. "I'm not interested in you. So you best put that ego away before you end up hurting someone, namely yourself." She chuckled. "That is, if it'll even fit in that tiny head of yours."

The man's confident smile wavered. "You're making a mistake, turning me down." He warned her. "There'll be consequences."

"Eh," She shrugged, turning back to the bar. "I'll take my chances." With a huff, he seemed to give up and leave. The bartender came back with her drink in a brown bottle.

"Some guys just don't get the message, lass." He said. "Don't take it too personally."

"Yeah." She replied, popping the cap off the bottle with her thumb. She took a swig of the liquid inside, sighing in satisfaction. "Thanks again, man."

"Don't mention it." The bartender replied, before heading off to aid the other patrons.

The woman sighed as she took another drink. She'd had a long week of dealing with other people's bull, so a day to herself where she could have a good beer and make merry was more than welcome. Just because the fate of the world was in the hands of people like her, didn't mean she couldn't enjoy herself. Unfortunately, the man who'd confronted her a minute ago was just another in a long line of losers who wanted to muscle in on her personal space. Though he was one of the few to do so while completely sober.

Which sadly meant that he had the conscious thought power to come back after being told no.

"Hey lass," The bartender said, washing a glass as he glanced at the door. "Your boy brought his pals."

"How many this time?" She asked, not bothering to look.

"I'd say at least seven, plus your admirer." The bartender replied. She smirked. Let the party begin.

"Hey, miss!" The man from earlier shouted. She casually spun the barstool around to face him, quirking an eyebrow at the gang of thugs with him. "I warned you what would happen if you said no to me."

She took a swig of her drink, before rolling her eyes. "Hey, now," She said. "You're making a scene." She cast a knowing look at the patrons, who were already grabbing their food and drinks and heading for the door, many bearing excited grins. "Now look what you did, you're making them leave."

The man just scoffed as he stepped forward, his boys following behind. "They just know that they don't wanna see what happens next."

At this, the woman chuckled. "I dunno." She said, stirring the drink in her hand. "They usually finish their meals before they need to leave."

"What's that?" The man asked.

The woman just flashed a knowing smile, before surveying the thugs. "You know, you brought an awful lot of guys with you." She observed. "Were they waiting outside or something?"

"That's none of your business." The man countered.

"Maybe," She shrugged. "Maybe not." Then she turned to address the thugs. "I'm guessing you guys haven't heard of me." She got no response. "Can't I at least finish my beer before you boys decide to put your hands on me?"

"Fine." The man said, frustration oozing from his voice.

"Thanks, lads." She said, spinning around to face the bar counter again. The goons all approached, until the man was standing directly behind her.

"You might want to take cover, man." She said, addressing the bartender, who ducked under the counter with a grin.

As she chugged down the rest of her beer, she let out a long sigh. "Ahhh, that hit the spot." She mused.

"Alright, doll." The man said. "You've had your drink. Now can we get down to business?"

"Yes, we can." She replied, readjusting her grip on the empty bottle.

She spun around and smacked the man over the head with the empty bottle. With little more than a grunt, he dropped like a sack of Irish Golds, and his boys all lurched back in shock.

Dropping the shattered remains of the bottle to the floor, she bent down and effortlessly hoisted the unconscious scoundrel into the air, tossing him to the other side of the bar. The goons all watched as their boss sailed through the air, landing near the door in a heap. They turned to stare at the woman, who was looking back at them with a smug grin. She held up her hands in a universal gesture: Come get some.

The first goon was dispatched quickly; a swift kick to his vulnerable nether regions and he fell to his knees, squealing in a soprano voice, before an elbow to the jaw left him sprawling.

Two more thugs charged, and the first of the two rushed in with a wild punch aimed at her face. His fist made contact with the side of her head, but the scream that followed was not hers. The man reeled back, clutching his now broken hand, before an uppercut to the chin launched him into one of the booths, where he lay out cold.

The second thug seemed unfazed by what had just happened, and simply tried to attack her with a concealed knife. A wrist mounted blade, she mused. How original. The blade snapped clean off the hilt as it hit her skin, flying off and smashing a wine glass behind her. She hooked her arm under the thug's own and twisted. A snapping sound and a pained scream met her ears before she spun around and tossed the man over the edge of the counter.

She charged forward, slamming into the biggest of the group. Once she was sure she was far enough away, she threw herself backwards, suplexing the man to the ground. She could hear her adoring fans cheering her on from outside the building. She briefly paused in the action to blow kisses to her captive audience.

In her moment of distraction, one of the three remaining thugs had grabbed a chair and charged at her, smashing the wooden chair over her head. She didn't even flinch, instead turning to the now not-so-confident assailant. "Really?" She asked, raising an eyebrow at him.

"I'm sorry." He replied hastily. "Ya can't blame me for trying." She responded by knocking him on the forehead, and he crumpled to the ground. One of the two remaining goons charged at her wildly, shouting a battle cry. She responded by holding her arm out to the side, clotheslining him. He dropped to the floor, unconscious.

Satisfied, she brushed her hands off. Then she looked at the last remaining thug. "You want some?" She asked.

He held his arms up nervously. "I-I don't even like these losers, ma'am." Then he hastily dashed out of the bar. The crowds outside broke into cheers, and with a smile on her face, she took a bow.

* * *

"I gotta say, these idiots seem to just be getting more and more pathetic." She said, as she dragged one of the unconscious goons to a corner of the room, where the bodies were being lined up.

"I'm impressed." The bartender added. "You only broke one chair this time. It's a new record."

"Awesome." She replied, hoisting one of the creeps over her shoulder. She inspects his wrist. "I'm impressed. This one had a wrist blade hidden in his sleeve."

"Oh really?" The bartender replies. "I hear those are in style these days."

"Eh." She shrugs. "I prefer just raw muscle to a metal blade."

The bartender chuckles. "Typical Mallory."

Mallory raises an eyebrow at him. "What's that supposed to mean, Bryce?"

"Nothing." Bryce replied. "It's just that you seem to have that bull-headed response, just because you're unbreakable. That just seems so typical of you, Mallory O'Dain."

Mallory rolled her eyes. "Whatever, loser." Bryce smirked. Mallory's face grew serious. "So, any news on You-know-who's movements?"

Bryce sighed. "Not much." He replied, shaking her head. "One of the patrons earlier did report that he saw Baldur's dreadnought heading south."

"That's it?" Mallory asked. "Just the dreadnought?"

"Yeah." Bryce replied. "Not sure what he's after, but it can't be good."

"Nothing is good as far as that psycho is conerned." Mallory frowned. "Any other news you'd like to share?"

Bryce hummed. "Well, there is something going on up in Norway that I thought you'd be interested in."

"Yeah?" Mallory asked, reaching into her bag. She pulled out a small sack and dumped the contents out onto the counter. "There you go, man. Fifty gold pieces. That should cover the chair and the glasses I broke."

Bryce chuckled and took five coins from the pile, pushing the rest back towards her. "Thanks, kid, but I think this will be enough." He said.

"Okay, suit yourself." Mallory shrugged, pocketing the money. "So, this thing, up in Norway. Tell me about it."

Bryce took a breath. "Well, you heard about that freak storm that took place there a few months ago, right?"

"Yeah," Mallory replied. "And in the middle of the Summer, too. What about it?"

"Well, there's rumors floating around that the queen of Arendelle was responsible for it." Bryce answered.

Mallory's eyes widened. "What?"

"I can't make this up." Bryce said, shaking his head again. "A merchant from Spain who'd been in Arendelle at the time told me all about it."

"What happened?" Mallory asked.

"See, according to this merchant, it happened during the queen's coronation. He doesn't know the details of what happened, but the young queen rushed out of the ball in a panic. Froze the entire town in ice. Apparently she did it with out even trying."

"Sweet buttery potatoes..." Mallory gaped. Then she furrowed her brow. "This is bad."

"I know that look." Bryce said. "What are you thinking?"

"I'm thinking that I need a fast ship to Arendelle, and soon." Mallory replied. "If Baldur gets to her first..."

"Oh, shit, you're right." Bryce said, eyes widening in realization. "He'll raze Arendelle to the ground."

"And that's just if she refuses to kneel." Mallory added. "We can't afford to let him get his hands on that much untapped power." She placed another gold coin on the counter. "I'll take one to go, please."

Bryce nodded, reaching below the counter and pulling out a bottle, tossing it to her. "Hey, think of it like this," He mused. "If you make it to Arendelle first, you might actually score yourself a girlfriend. Oh, the others will be thrilled."

"What?" Mallory asked. "Me, with the queen of a freaking country?" She burst out laughing. "Ahahahahaha, oh, gods, that's a good one." She popped the cap off the bottle and took a long swig. "The day I marry a queen is the day pigs fly."

"Hey, you never know." Bryce shrugged. "Now go on, go save the world."

"You got it, man." Mallory said, nodding as she turned to leave.

"And for the love of the gods, bring the whole crew with you next time!" Bryce shouted.

"Okay, man. Will do. See ya later!" Mallory replied as she ran out the door.

**A/N: So, that's that. I feel like I did pretty well. I didn't explicitly lay out what's going on. That part comes later. Also, I picked a random name for Mallory that I figured sounded Irish in my head. Her last name is pronounced "Oh-Dine," by the way. And yes, she will be important.**

**So, can anyone guess what her magic talent is? I can't call them quirks or semblances, so Talent is going to have to do. I've decided I'll let the readers have a chance to guess what the character's talent is in each story. Again, I can't guarantee that the nature of magic in this AU will have any similarity to how the sequel is going to establish it. So bear that in mind.**

**Also, the wrist blade was a reference to Assassin's Creed. It does not, however, mean that this is a crossover. It's just a reference. A GAME REFERENCE!**

**Anyway, yeah. I think I'll give this a few days to sit, then start working on the next one.**

**Until then, please read, review, favorite, and follow, and I'll see you all next time. Peace out, and may the Force be with you. Always.**


	2. Savage

**Disclaimer: See Summary.**

**A/N: So, I wasn't expecting this. I'll be honest, I was really looking forward to creating these, but then I decided that I'd just include them all as one story. Feels easier that way. So I'll be changing the title of the story, and Unbroken will remain the title of Mallory's chapter.**

**I'd also like to address the reviews:**

**HansandHelsaHatersRule: It's in the Frozen tag because this takes place within the universe of Frozen, duh.**

**Guest: What do you mean by that?**

**Dreamsandimaginations: Okay. You have your OTP, and I have mine. I agree that Elsa has been through enough, and throwing in a romance would feel tacked on, and unnecessary. I agree that perhaps it would be better if Disney introduced a completely new prince/princess to explore the concept of LGBTQ representation in a way that doesn't talk down to the children of the audience. But I'm still going to explore the possibilities.**

**As for Baldur, I never really knew much about Norse Mythology until I played the new God of War game, and even then, I knew that not everything would be entirely accurate. All I know about the mythological Baldur is that he died, went to Helheim, and was brought back under the condition that all living things weep for him. Everyone did, except one, (who was possibly Loki in disguise), and Baldur was sent back to Helheim. Apart from that, I don't really know much about Baldur. But don't worry, the Baldur in this story won't be a god, or a pyromancer. But he will be a dangerous foe.**

**I'm glad you enjoyed Mallory. And yes, she has weaknesses, but as an author, I think learning about them through her actions and interactions with others is more effective than talking about it in an A/N.**

**So, with that out of the way, let's do this.**

* * *

It was a quiet night on the road. There'd been no issue since he set out with his wares. His horse seemed on edge, but he was normally skittish at night. Nothing a little conversation couldn't fix.

"Easy there, Gillian." The merchant soothed. "Everything's going to be okay. We've made this trip plenty of times." It was true. He made frequent use of this path, to and from the capital city. The kingdom had been booming in many ways since the return of the princess. As a result, merchants hoping to sell their wares found that they could make a profit, delivering various items to and from various neighboring towns. Truly, nothing could surprise him anymore.

The carriage came to a sudden stop. Herman raised an eyebrow. Okay, maybe he could still be surprised. Ahead of him, a group of men wearing masks and carrying swords approached his carriage. "Alright, sir, please step away from the wagon." One of them, stepping forward and offering a carrot to the horse. A hand remained on the hilt of the sword at his side.

"What is this?" Herman asked.

"Just a routine cargo check, sir." Another guard replied. "Gotta make sure you ain't carrying contraband or nothing."

"I'm afraid I don't understand." Herman replied. "I make this trip regularly, and I assure you I would never willingly deliver illegal goods."

"Sorry, sir, but protocol is protocol." The leader replied, petting Gillian. "Check the wagon."

One of the soldiers rushed to the back of the cart and opened it. "Hey, boss, there's over a hundred kilos of liquor in here!"

The boss looked at Herman and raised an eyebrow. "So, nothing illegal, eh?" He asked.

"I'm licensed to carry that stuff." Herman said, as he fumbled through his coat to pull a piece of paper out of his pocket. "Here are my papers if you don't believe me."

He handed the paper to the leader, who took it and looked it over. "Hmm...Alright. Your story checks out." He said, handing the paper back to Herman. Then he turned to his men. "Load the stuff up in the bags, boys."

"Wait, what?" Herman replied in shock, even as he put the papers back in his coat pocket. "But I just showed you that I'm allowed to deliver this."

"You are." The leader said. "But we're taking your stuff anyway." It was at that moment that Herman noticed the emblem on the man's belt buckle.

"Wait a minute." Herman said. "You're..."

"The Midnight Marauders." One of the thieves said, taking a bow. "At your service."

"You idiot!" Another thief shouted. "Now we gotta kill this fool."

The leader grabbed Herman by the collar and yanked him to the ground. "Relax, boys." He said, holding the poor merchant down with one arm. "We were going to kill him anyway, remember?" The thieves laughed as they continued to unload crates of whiskey from the wagon. Then the leader turned to Herman, who continued to shake. "Any last words, old man?"

Whatever Herman was prepared to say was cut off when a bone chilling howl cut through the air. Gillian whinnied in shock, hopping from hoof to hoof nervously, but the other thieves seemed more surprised than him.

"The hell was that?!" One of them shouted, unsheathing a dagger.

"That was a wolf, you coward." Another thief replied.

The leader of the thieves stood up, all pretense of superiority gone. He quickly unsheathed his sword. "That was no wolf, boys."

"Oh, _hell_, no!" One thief yelled. "I ain't messing with no goddamn werewolf!" He took off running, only to be cut off by his boss.

"No you don't!" He shouted. "We got silver. That werewolf is welcome to try and mess with us." The other thieves unsheathed their weapons, and the leader pulled out a silver dagger. The distant sound of something big rushing through the woods towards them put a few of the thieves on edge. Then it suddenly stopped.

"Show yourself, beast!" The leader challenged.

The beast leaped out from one of the trees, dropping onto one of the thieves. The leader threw his dagger at it, and it lodged itself into the creature's shoulder. But the leader's confidence melted when, instead of writhing in agony, the creature slowly rose to full height. He smirked as he made a show of yanking the dagger out of his arm. He inspected it, turning it over in one hairy hand, before his gaze locked onto the leader and he threw the dagger to the ground.

"Well don't just stand there, you idiots!" The boss shouted. "Kill that monster!"

Two of them surged forward, only to be grabbed by the collars. Without wasting a second, he knocked their heads together, dropping their unconscious bodies and moving on to the next goons.

Another thief rushed forward with a club, but the werewolf grabbed the weapon and yanked it out of his hand, kicking him to the dirt and wheeling around. He chucked the club at another incoming thug, who dropped on contact.

The thug in the boss' grip struggled again. "You get in there and kick that sucker's ass!" He ordered, throwing the lackey towards the werewolf.

He charged forward but the werewolf swung around and sucker punched the lackey in the gut, before grabbing him by the arm and tossing him aside. Now, the werewolf's attention was solely on the boss.

"I'll kill you myself, demon." He seethed. He dropped his sword and ran at the beast. He landed several punches to the creature's snout, before the werewolf grabbed his arm. He fixed the thief with an unimpressed glare, before delivering a knock out blow directly to the man's head. The thief crumpled like a sandcastle in the tides.

The wolf-like creature surveyed the carnage, satisfied that all of the thieves had been dealt with, he made his way to where Herman was lying down. For a minute, the old merchant thought he was done for.

Then the werewolf knelt down, and reached out to offer a hand up. Hesitantly, Herman accepted the gesture. "You alright, mate?" The creature asked, in a gruff British accent.

"Y-Yes. Thank you." Herman replied, still shaken. He now noticed that the wolf like beast was wearing pants and an unbuttoned shirt. Odd.

"Good." The beast nodded. "Then I'd suggest you get moving before they wake up." He helped Herman back up onto his seat, and gave Gillian a gentle pat on the flank. Then he walked to the back of the cart to load the crates back up. "I've been tracking these blokes for weeks. Never thought I'd catch 'em trying to rob a guy on the road like this. They usually kill first and then take the goods."

"That's...reassuring." Herman noted.

The creature huffed as he bent down and picked up the leader's dagger. "You know what?" He said. "Here." He pulled a knife from his belt and handed it to Herman. "I've been meaning to get a new knife anyway."

"Uh. Thanks." Herman said, pocketing the knife.

"Don't mention it." The wolf creature grunted. "Safe travels."

"You too, I suppose." Herman replied, as he whistled for Gillian to go.

As the cart disappeared, the wolf creature returned to inspecting his new dagger. Then, he looked back down at the thieves. "Curious, how you blokes decided to change tactics." Suddenly, the green rune-stone resting on his neck began to glow. "No rest for the best, I guess." The wolf creature sighed. He glanced down at the thieves one last time. "Mallory's gonna need to 'ear about this." With that, he took off into the woods.

**A/N: So, yeah. Shorter chapter this time. Sorry about that. Hopefully it still seems alright. And before I get a bunch of reviews complaining about the existence of werewolves in the Frozen universe, keep in mind that we also have talking snowmen, rock trolls, and an ice-mage queen. So it's within the realm of possibilities that such creatures as werewolves in this universe.**

**By the way, as you may have noticed, this creature may or may not be something different from a true werewolf, since he retains human cognitive thought and speech, and didn't display a weakness to the silver dagger. This will hopefully be explained in the main story, which already has a working title, "Éan Sneachta." (Props to whoever can translate that without consulting Google Translate like I did.)**

**Also, who can guess where Herman was coming from?**

**Anyway, next chapter, whenever I get enough time to work on it, will be a bit...spicier. Make of that what you will.**

**Until then, please read, review, favorite and follow, and I'll see you all next time. Peace out, and may the Force be with you. Always.**


	3. Burning Up

**Disclaimer: See Summary.**

**A/N: Okay, so this story isn't all that well received. I get it. But I still have three more chapters to go (this one and two more after). So bear with me guys. Other than that, there ain't much to say right now. So...enjoy the chapter. Or not, if the lack of views is anything to go off of. Whatever. I'm still going to finish this mess. Then it's back to Mercytale for me. But don't worry, the follow up story to this train wreck will come out as well...eventually.**

**Even though there was only one review on the previous chapter, I'll still answer it.**

**BravemanJones: Yeah. Right after I uploaded the chapter, I looked up what the differences are between a werewolf and a lycan. According to what I found, Lycans are smarter and stronger, and that they can transform at any time, as opposed to just during the full moon. I also learned that Lycans can't be killed with silver. I'm going to be modifying some of the other characteristics of the Lycan in the main story.**

**Anyway, try to see how many references you can find in this chapter.**

* * *

It was a dark and stormy night, as predictable as that sounds. The guards were doing their rounds, making sure the riffraff they'd picked up were behaving. Two of them stopped at a particular pair of cells. In the left was an old man that had been begging for shelter and had stumbled upon the facility, and was being held for the night. In the right was a young man of Italian origin, who'd been involved in a massive bar fight (which he may or may not have instigated) and was apprehended.

"What, I don't get a trial or nothing?" He asked, raising an eyebrow as the two guards looked back at him.

The two started laughing. "Not a chance, Nickolas." The taller guard replied. "This is the third time this month that you've caused a ruckus like this. You should be lucky that we don't send you to Almirats."

The Italian man snickered, confusing the two. "Oh, please." He chuckled. "I'd be out of that place in a minute, two minutes tops."

The shorter guard scoffed. "Yeah, I doubt that." He said, as he and his colleague continued with their patrol.

As they rounded the corner, Nico smirked. He was going to bail out of here, just like he always did. He glanced up at the old man sitting calmly in his own cell. "So," Nico asked, hoping to distract himself with some light conversation. "What'cha in for, old geezer?"

"Ah," The old man rasped. "Lookin' for shelter. Can't afford a room at the inn."

"Why not just ask for a job?" Nico asked.

"I would if I could," The old man replied. "But I can't on account of my age."

Nico nodded in understanding. "What about you, youngster?" The old man continued. "What's your story?"

"Eh," Nico shrugged. "Not a whole lot there. I'm a drifter. Go where I feel."

"I see," The old man replied. "The name's Roland."

"Nico." The Italian man said. "So, I'm gonna go out on a limb and assume from your attire that you're a bit of a traveler yourself."

"Aye," Roland replied. "I was, in my younger years. Not much anymore, with these old bones."

"So I'm guessing you've heard something about the..." Nico was about to say more, when two more guards marched past. Nico gave them his best innocent smile. Once they were gone, he turned back to Roland. "About the Crimson Army?"

"Crimson Army? Are you crazy?!" Roland asked in a startled whisper, looking around frantically as if fearing that the wrong ears were listening. "Just saying that name in the wrong place can get you killed!"

"And you say that because..." Nico replied, hoping Roland would elaborate.

"A couple years ago," Roland began. "A merchant from, uh, Portugal, told everyone in town how he'd been rescued from members of Crimson Army by a beautiful Irish lady." He missed the knowing smirk that formed on Nico's face. "The Crimson Army fled, but took his crew with 'em, using his ship to escape. His ship is still full of goods, mind you, so he hires someone to find it. Some time later, this mercenary returns, scared out of his wits. Says he found the ship on some barren island. Said he saw this giant of a man lop the heads off the crew with a magic sword."

"Baldur." Nico muttered.

"Ah, that's right." Roland confirmed. "That's what the mercenary said he was called. King Baldur."

"He ain't no king." Nico replied to himself. Out loud, he asked, "This merc, did he say where the island was?"

"Nope." Roland replied, shaking his head. "Said it was best no one found it. The Crimson Army be everywhere, leaving nothing but chaos wherever they go. I thought this merchant was pulling my leg...till someone found him, or well, part of him anyway, in his house about three days later. There was a hand written note next to the body, written entirely in his blood, warning that the Storm King was coming."

"Jesus Christ." Nico muttered.

"And that isn't all," Roland added. "They say this King Baldur is like a god. Not many who've fought him have survived to tell about it."

"Heh," Nico chuckled. "Then I guess that means I'm one of the lucky ones."

"You're kidding!" Roland yelped.

Nico shook his head. "Nah," He said. "It's true. That Irish lady you were talking about? She's my best friend. The Unbreakable Mallory O'Dain. She and I and a couple of other magic wielders have been thorns in Baldur's side for years."

Roland seemed impressed. Nico continued. "And what's more, we've got a little...well, I guess you could call it a revolution, going on. Others, as in regular humans and other magic wielders across Europe are doing their part to impede Baldur's delusions of grandeur. In fact..." He glanced up at one of the other cells. The inmate he was looking at gave him a knowing grin and nodded. "Who said I didn't want to get locked up in here?"

"Well, kid," Roland asked. "How do you plan to get out of here?"

"Like this." Nico chuckled. He rubbed his palms together and then gripped the bars of his cell, looking back up at the other inmates. Once they confirmed to him that there were no guards immediately nearby, he tightened his grip on the bars. To Roland's rising surprise and fascination, the bars began to glow and hiss as heat was applied to the metal. Once the Italian was confident that he'd turned up the heat enough, he readjusted his grip and pushed the two bars apart. Then, with the bars a good distance apart, Nico stepped through to freedom.

"You're a pyromancer," Roland marveled.

Nico smirked. "Yep. One of the best even." He replied confidently. Then he clapped his hands together. "Now, where was I? Oh right. JAIL BREAK!" He threw his hands out, and melted the bars of the other cells. The other inmates had all stepped back to avoid collateral damage, and once the cell bars were melted, they began to file out into the hall. Then, as he brushed his hands together, he turned to Roland. "What about you, old timer?"

Roland raised his hand dismissively. "Ah, don't worry about me," He said. "I'll be fine. You just go save the world. Good luck, kid."

Nico nodded. "You too, old man." He replied. Then he cracked his knuckles. "Alright, everyone, let's blow this pop stand!"

At that moment, the distant sound of guards hustling to see what was going on caught Nico's attention. "Alright, what's going on down...HEY!" A guard had spotted the gaggle of very free inmates clustered in the hall. "The prisoners are escaping!"

As the guards leveled their blades at the group, one of the escapees glanced at Nico. "What do we do, boss?" He asked.

Nico smirked, stepping forward. "Stand back." Stretching his arms, he threw his hands forward, and a wall of flames roared to life, blocking the guards from advancing. Then he turned to his allies. "Let's get out of here!" As the group turned to run the other way, Nico exchanged one last look with Roland, who merely nodded, offering an encouraging smile. Nico nodded back and turned to join his comrades.

"So, now what do we do?" One of the other inmates, a young man named Archibald asked.

"Get your weapons and meet me at the courtyard." Nico replied. "From there, we book it for the woods."

"Hold it right there!" Shouted a voice from in front of them, bringing the group to a screeching halt. A young woman in battle armor stepped forward, her heeled boots clacking against the stone floor. Her light brown hair was pulled back in a bun, and she fixed the pyromancer with a murderous glare.

"Ah, shit." Nico muttered. "Here we go again."

"What's wrong, boss?" Archibald asked.

"Stick to the game plan, Archie," Nico replied. "I'll meet you outside." As the other man nodded, leading the gang away to find their weapons, Nico turned his attention back to the woman in front of him. "Vela!" He greeted cheerfully, spreading his arms in a welcoming gesture. "_Che sorpresa!_ How've ya been? Love what you've done with your hair. That a new look, or have you had it a while?"

Vela merely narrowed her eyes at him, before signaling for her troops to stand down. "I should have known you would be the cause of this little riot."

Nico gasped, pressing a hand against his chest and taking a step back. "Oh, Vela, you wound me." He replied, in mock offense. "My dear flower, I'm not starting a riot. I'm leading a revolution. There's a very clear difference."

When she didn't reply, he continued. "Look, I get that you have a job to do, but so do I, and honestly, in the long run, I think it's safe to say that my job is way more important than yours."

Vela sighed. "If you're referring to fighting that madman," She replied. "Then I have all the more reason to stop you."

Nico chuckled. "Aww, you do care about me."

Vela scoffed. "You're dating my little sister, Salentino." She snapped. "That puts her in the line of fire. I refuse to let her die because that monster used her as leverage."

The cocky smirk on Nico's face disappeared, replaced with a stern glare. "Trust me, Vela," He said, cracking his knuckles. "I'm not going to let him anywhere near her. He'll be dead before he can even think about hurting her."

Vela didn't seem convinced. "Look," She growled. "This is completely unnecessary."

"I couldn't agree more, Vela," Nico replied, his smug grin returning. "Step aside, and let us leave, and we can get back to our lives."

"I'm afraid I can't do that, Nickolas," Vela replied, unclipping the dual bladed sword from her back. "You can stand down now, or after I kick your butt."

"Hmm." Nico pondered, cupping his chin. Then he looked back at her. "How 'bout no?"

Vela sighed and readjusted the grip on her sword. "Then you leave me no choice."

"Heh," Nico smirked. He summoned a pair of flames which morphed into short swords. "Well, I think that means we've had enough talk, now don't you?" He crouched a little.

Vela glared. "You took the words right out of-" She didn't get to finish before he charged forward, ready to fight. His swords clashed with her staff, but her weapon held strong against the heat of his blades. Immediately, she knew he was at a disadvantage. She had years of training and experience under her belt; he was sloppy, and relied too much on his magic. This would be easy.

She parried a dual strike aimed for her left shoulder, immediately following up with a counter attack aimed for his head. He ducked, and she capitalized on his moment of distraction, using the flat of her blade to sweep him off balance. He shot out a small jet of flames that propelled him out from her reach.

He sprung to his feet and brushed the dust from his shoulders. "Not bad," He said, cracking his neck. "But I'm just getting warmed up." He summoned two more blades and prepared to charge. Vela sneered, and with a twist of the staff, the two blades separated. She twirled them in her hands and glared at her opponent. He had the gall to smirk at her and slick his hair back, gesturing for her to come at him. She obliged.

With a battle cry, she lunged forward. He brought up his blades in defense. From the outside, an onlooker would have been hard pressed to distinguish the two fighting styles. To the initiated, however, the differences were obvious. Vela struck with passion and fury, each move calculated, the result of years of extensive training. In contrast, Nico, who was not fighting in his element, as swords weren't his go-to weapons of choice, was nonetheless fighting with chaotic, staccato moves. Their blades locked, and Vela glared at Nico, who was still wearing that annoying grin. "Had enough yet?" She challenged.

"Heh," Nico chuckled. "Not even close." He twisted his blades and push-kicked her in the gut. Her heeled boots skidded across the stone ground, and she huffed. Nico charged up a column of flames and launched it at her. Eyes widening, she fused her blades back into a staff and began twirling the weapon in such a way that it dispelled the flames before they could harm her.

"Now for the main event," Nico taunted, as if addressing an audience. Then, he reached into his trench coat and pulled something out of it. With a wave of his arm, the object cracked as it unfurled to reveal a ten-foot whip. Vela frowned. How the hell had the guards not thought to check that his weapon wasn't with him? She shook herself from those thoughts as she prepared to engage the enemy again. Nico flicked his wrist, and the whip ignited. He lashed out, and she just managed to block the attack. If his techniques with swords were erratic, his techniques with a flaming whip were something else completely.

Every time the weapons made contact, it would produce a small flash of light, coupled with a loud bang, but she refused to be cowed. He pulled his whip back and struck again, with the tip wrapping around her staff. She pulled against him, digging her heels into the cracks in the ground as a brace. She was so busy trying to avoid being pulled off balance that she almost missed the mischievous grin on his face. "Checkmate," He said.

Before she could react, small jets of flame burst from the heels of his boots. He launched himself forward, hovering above the ground as he dashed around her in a circle. She readjusted her weapon, so as to not be cut down accidentally. He circled around her, and she realized too late that he was using his whip to tie her up. In almost no time, she was completely cocooned. He winked at her as he came to a stop in front of her, satisfied with his work. He booped her on the nose and yanked, sending her spinning out of control. She fell to the ground and he coiled his whip, putting it back in its place beneath his coat.

"Gotta say, Vela," He said, as he strode past her to a barrel nearby, upon which sat his fedora. "You put up one hell of a fight." He picked the hat up, and it appeared to leap onto his head as if on its own accord. "You know, the offer's still on the table," He adds, as he adjusts his hat. "You and your boys would be more than welcome into the fold."

She didn't dignify him with a response. Before he could add anything to his tirade, a flare went off outside the compound. "Welp," He sighed, brushing himself off. "I gotta go. You know, save the world and stuff. I'll tell your sister you said hi. _Arrivederci!_" He tipped his fedora and used the flames jetting from the bottoms of his boots to clear the wall.

"Well, don't just stand there!" She shouted as she shot to her feet. "Stop them!"

Nico landed outside the compound and started running towards his crew, which was already gathered about a hundred feet away. The gates rattled open and the guards came storming out, some on horseback, and some on foot. Nico glanced back at the guards, then back to the others. "Scatter!" He yelled, waving his hands in a wild gesture. "Make for the woods! We can lose 'em if we can reach the tree line!" On cue, the escaped inmates turned tail and made a mad dash for the woods, belting out battle cries as they fled.

Nico spun around, running backwards as he threw a blast of flames at his pursuers. The flame ignited the grass, despite it still being wet from the recent rain. The wall of flame spread outward, spooking the horses to a temporary stop. "Long live the revolution! Wooo!" He shouted, pumping a fist into the air as he turned back around and booked it for the woods. He turned to Archie, who was once again armed with his trident, and said, "You remember the plan, chief?"

"You know it, brother," Archie replied. "We'll head for the nearest port town. See you in Alcara, man!" With that, Nico broke off from the pack, igniting his fire jets and taking off into the sky. He was so pumped up with excitement that he completely failed to notice that the green stone in his back pocket was glowing.

**A/N: Another chapter down, two more to go. Then I can go back to working on Mercytale. So, I'm going against the grain here, with Nico being a pyromancer. Most Frozen fanfics that feature a fire-wielder do one of four things: Make the fire-wielder Elsa's love interest, her endgame enemy, Hans, or Anna. As you can gather, Nico will be none of those things. Just putting that out there.**

**Also, Archie and the other escapees will eventually appear in the main story, in some capacity.**

**Anyway, the next chapter will be the last one focusing on a specific character, then the last one will be a culmination of the four heroes.**

**Until then, please be sure to Read, Review, Favorite and Follow, and I'll see you all next time. Peace out, and may the Force be with you. Always.**

**Translations:**

**_Che Sopresa_: What a Surprise (Italian)**

**_Arrivederci_: See you later (Italian)**


	4. The Survivor

**Disclaimer: See Summary**

**A/N: This is it. One last individual chapter, and one last chapter after this, and I can finally be done with this story. Hopefully, going back to Mercytale will give me time to iron out the plot line of the main story of Éan Sneachta. I have a few ideas of what I want to include, but the challenge is going to be piecing them together into a cohesive story.**

**Funny story, I originally wanted Nico's chapter to take place in a bar, where he still hears Roland's tale, but gets into a fight when members of the Crimson Army storm the place. It would have included a scene where Nico uses his pyrokinesis to shut off the lights and taking down the enemy while they couldn't see him. But since Mallory's fight scene took place in a bar, and I wanted to have each of the four heroes face fundamentally different fights, I decided to make some changes to Nico's chapter.**

**Also, trigger warning for mentions of past abuse, and for violence and language.**

**With that being said, let's begin.**

* * *

It was hard surveying the land with only one good eye. She only had half of the field of view that anyone else would have. Naturally, this line of thought found its way back to the one who had done this, and so much more, to her as a child. She could already see that sadistic grin, those hungry eyes, that disgusting face. She imagined carving his pretty face off, driving her sword through where his heart would be, if he had one, and freeing herself of his sickening presence. She gripped her arm tightly to rein in her anger. "No," She scolded herself. "Anger leads to failure." Pulling herself from her building rage, she continued to scan the market place from her vantage point.

Mallory had told her that this guy might have an idea where Baldur was hiding. If she was being honest with herself, she wasn't as concerned about that big idiot. Yes, he was one of the most dangerous men in Europe, but _He_ took priority on Piper's kill list above all others, even her scumbag parents. In fact, if the rumors were to be believed, _He_ worked for Baldur. So, in a roundabout way, if she could find _Him_, she could force him to tell her where his master was, and then she'd cut _Him_ up like paper; it was what he deserved for taking her childhood away from her.

But that could wait. Right now, she had a mission to achieve. Mallory had told her that the target would be wearing a red robe with a golden phoenix etched into the back. She scanned the crowds, looking for him, craning her neck to get a better view. Then, she saw him talking with a shop keeper, waving his hands animatedly, before brandishing a knife from the sleeve of his robes. That was her cue.

She stood to full height, before glancing down at the cart of vegetables beneath her. Perfect, she thought. She leaned forward, free falling towards the cushion below. It was about a second later that she realized just how high up she'd actually been and silently cursed her lack of depth perception. "Oh, sh..." Was all she could say before hitting the cart. She landed with such force that it cracked, much to the chagrin of the poor man who owned the cart.

"My cabbages!" He shouted in distress.

"Ah, _gamóto_!" Piper spat, as she hauled herself out of the destroyed cart. She fixed her target with a glare. He sheathed his dagger and bolted. She grunted, pulling a small bag of gold coins out of her back pocket and tossing it to the hapless man, before taking off in a full sprint after her target.

He was desperate to lose her, she could tell. He over turned barrels and set animals loose, all in a vain attempt to distract her. But her focus was unwavering. Then he led her past the harbor, picking a small child up and tossing the poor boy into the water. She paused for a second, contemplating diving in and saving him. The boy waved her off. "Don't worry about me!" He shouted, as he treaded water. "I can swim, go get him!" With a nod, she took off after her target.

He led her through another crowded courtyard, forcefully pushing past other people. She didn't even break stride as she spring boarded off a barrel and dashed across the rooftops. She smirked as he tried to cut through a side street, and she dropped down behind him. He reached the dead end, and turned around to face her.

"You know," She said, cracking her knuckles. "You didn't need to run. We can have a nice chat, like mature, responsible adults."

"So why'd you chase me?" The man asked nervously.

"Because you ran away." She replied. "And you also have information that could prove very beneficial to me and my friends."

"About Lord Baldur?" He asked. "I would never betray my liege to a scrawny rat like you." He squinted at her. "Actually, you do seem familiar to me, now that I have a better view of you."

Her eye narrowed. "If you want to keep your head on your shoulders," She warned, venom dripping off of her words. "I'd suggest you choose your next words carefully."

"Ah, there it is," The man continued, unafraid of her threat. "Jermaine's little pet."

Her sword was in her hand almost before she realized it. "Say his name again, or call me his...pet...again, and I'll gut you like a fish."

The man merely chuckled. "Oh, so you still have that fire in your soul. I would've thought Sir Jermaine would have broken you like a good pet."

She screamed as she charged at him. With a flick of his wrist, the blade concealed in his sleeve hurled itself at her. She threw her hand up, and the knife lodged itself in the ground at her feet. He flinched, as she rushed at him again.

"Hold it right there!" came a voice from behind her, catching her attention. She whipped around to see a pair of guards standing behind her, armed with spears. "You're coming with us, child."

She growled, before summoning a shield from her left gauntlet, bashing it against her target's head and knocking him out. Then, she rushed back down the alleyway with a crazed battle cry. One guard raised his spear and threw it at her, but she deflected it with her shield. The second guard had just enough time to raise his own spear before she reached them, a wild look in her eye. She batted the spear away with her sword, and bashed the other man in the gut with her shield in the same motion. Both men crumpled to the ground, out cold.

She barely had time to realize that the people around her were already scattering when an arrow whirled towards her. She casually batted it away with her sword, before hurling her shield at the assailant. A second arrow from one of the rooftops forced her to parry with her sword again, ducking into a roll to avoid a third as she threw out her free arm. As if by its own will, the shield sailed through the air back to its place on its owner's arm.

A man with a crimson hood concealing his face charged at her with a cutlass in hand. She disoriented him by kneeing him in the groin, staggering him by shield bashing his head, and finishing him off with a quick cleave to the neck. The cult member burst into a cloud of dust. She ducked out of the way of a spear swing and swept a second hooded figure off balance, before she cut his head off with her sword. Like his companion, this one also burst into a cloud of dust. She felt her anger peak as she let out a feral cry, charging at another cultist. She hurled her shield, subtly guiding it through the air as it cut clean through his neck, bounced off the wall of a nearby building and sliced through a second cultist's head. Both disciples of the Crimson Army burst into dust upon contact with the rogue shield.

She had a crazed glare in her remaining eye, as if she were a woman possessed. She felt something charge at her and had just enough time to recall her shield as she wheeled around and brought it up in defense at the last second. The final cultist, one of Baldur's generals, came down hard with a large axe, murder in his eyes. She matched his glare as she pushed against him.

She swung her shield to throw him off balance, and attempted to finish him off with a stab, but he brought the shaft of his pole-axe up in defense. She grit her teeth as she slashed and stabbed, unable to break his defenses. Eventually, he managed to bat her shield away, forcing her to parry his follow-up strike with her sword. Then she noticed the metal bindings and clips on his robes and smirked.

Tightening her free hand into a fist, she froze him in place, and then threw him back a few steps. She came down hard on the wooden shaft of his weapon, savoring the sound of wood cracking slightly under the strain. But she didn't let up, smacking the wood again and again, until the shaft split. Her opponent staggered, and she used it to her advantage. She pinned him against the wall with one hand, and with the other, she hurled her sword directly into his chest. Like his comrades, he exploded in a cloud of dust.

Piper was breathing heavily, and with the rage still coursing through her veins, she threw her head back and yelled "WHO ELSE WANTS SOME!" Her battle cry echoed through the empty streets, even as she finally came down from her combat high. She extended her arm, and her sword flew through the air and into her waiting hand. She repeated the process with her shield. Once Thárros was back on her arm, she flexed her hand and the shield collapsed back into her gauntlet.

She was about to sheathe her sword when a sound from behind her caught her attention. Without hesitating, she spun around and hurled her sword at her target. The man collapsed, howling in agony as the metal blade pierced his arm, cutting it off. She strode towards him and turned him around, so he was laying on his back. She gripped his face tightly with one hand and used the other to stop him from grabbing her, invoking her magic to keep his good arm pinned to the ground. _Good thing I didn't lop off the arm with the rings_, she thought.

"You bitch!" He hissed.

"Now, now," Piper replied, her voice calm. "That's no way to speak to a lady."

"You're no lady, creature." He spat. "Now, what do you want?"

"I want to know where Baldur is," Piper answered. "If you tell me, I'll let you go. If you lie...well, I'll cut your other arm off."

"Baldur's ship was last seen heading south, towards a small kingdom I cannot recall the name of," The goon replied evenly. "Why, and for how long, I cannot say. I swear that is all I know."

Piper smiled as she stepped back, sheathing Krísi again. "There we go," She said cheerfully. "That wasn't so hard, now was it?" Before he could pull himself to his feet, she grabbed him by the throat and forcefully pulled him to her level, with greater strength than what her seventeen year old body seemed capable of. "But before you go, I have a message for Sir Jermaine Boucher." She spat the name as if the mere action of speaking it out loud disgusted her. "Tell him that the grim reaper is coming for his black soul, and her name is Piper Leonidas. Now get out of my sight." She threw him to the ground, and he scrambled to his feet and ran off, clutching the bloody stump of his right arm.

Piper huffed as the man ran off. Satisfied that she'd gained as much knowledge as she could from the sniveling idiot, she turned around and began to walk away. A green glow beneath her tunic caught her attention, and she pulled out her message rune.

The image of a trinity symbol shimmered in her hand, signifying that Mallory had sent her, and possibly the boys as well, a message that she needed them. No doubt she was waiting for them in Alcara already. Stuffing the green stone back into her shirt, she glanced in the direction of the harbor. Then she fidgeted the back of gold in her pocket, determining that she had enough to afford the trip to Alcara from here. She took a deep breath. "Well, I'm on my way, Mallory." She said, as she set out to find a ship to take her to her friends.

**A/N: Okay, let me just make something clear. I started conceptualizing Piper way before I became invested in RWBY, so I'd like to believe that it was a pure coincidence that Piper is so similar to Pyrrha. Not just in that they have metal controlling powers, and have a rustic Greek theme, but in the way they carry themselves...also that they both wear their hair in ponytails.**

**And, yeah, I couldn't not include an Avatar: The Last Airbender reference in there.**

**So, one chapter after this, and then I'll take a short break, before going back to work on Mercytale. I promise I'll get back to The Ultimate Return and Two Souls, One Goal eventually.**

**Until then, please Read, Review, Favorite, and Follow, and I'll see you all next time. Peace out, and may the Force be with you. Always.**

**Translations:**

**_Gamóto_: Damn it. (Greek)**

**_Thárros_: Courage. (Greek)**

**_Krísi_: Judgement. (Greek)**

**_Boucher_: Butcher (French)**


	5. Getting Together

**Disclaimer: See Summary**

**A/N: This is it. The last chapter of the story. I know, this story isn't really that popular, I get it. It's the least viewed story on my account, and it still doesn't have any favorites or follows, making it the only multi-chapter story to hold that unfortunate achievement. But screw it, I'm finishing this train wreck of a story.**

**So, the last four chapters were meant to showcase each of the individual characters and their respective fighting styles. This chapter will showcase how they play off each other when all four of them are fighting a common threat.**

**Also, to NamelessSaint: I would like you to explain to me what it was that made you think that this story is a crossover, including what you mistakenly think this is supposed to be a crossover with. Because I assure you, this is NOT a crossover story. It is purely a Frozen Fanfic, just like I explained in the PM I sent you. Capiche?**

**Also, TW for language and violence.**

**With that said, enjoy the final chapter.**

* * *

"I must say, darlin'." Sofia said as she took a bite of her pasta. "You really know how to treat a woman, takin' me to the nicest places."

"Ey, what can I say?" Nico replied. "Nothin' but the best for my girlfriend, right?"

Sofia smirked. "So, what's new in the world of magic?" She asked.

"Not much," Nico replied. "Mal's been kinda quiet lately. Nothin' new on the Baldur situation as far as I know. But that ain't important right now. All that matters, _Bella Rosa_, is that we enjoy the time we have."

"Cute." Sofia replied with a grin, as she dug into her dinner. "So, any plans for the rest of the night that you'd like to include me in?"

Nico raised an eyebrow. "Oh, I think you already know the answer to that, gorgeous."

Sofia smiled. "Clothes shopping?"

"You know it!" Nico replied.

The two laughed before Nico snapped his fingers. On command, the candle lights dimmed, not just around their table, but the entire restaurant. "Ever one for theatrics, huh?" Sofia asked.

"Heh," Nico chuckled. "You know how I operate."

Sofia smiled as she raised her glass. "To life." She said.

"To us." Nico replied, raising his own glass.

"_Saluti!_" They said together as their glasses made contact with a clink. Then they both took a drink.

"Ah, I miss the good old days." Nico reminisced.

"Which good old days?" Sofia asked.

"Oh, you know." Nico responded. "Back when we didn't have to worry about a crazy magic wielding dictator threatening to take over the world and shit."

"Ah, those good old days." Sofia nodded.

"Yeah." Nico said. "Mark my words, Sof, we'll have days like that again soon. I'll make sure of it."

"You sure about that, man?"

Nico spun around, eyes widened. Mallory O'Dain was standing there, arms folded across her chest and an eyebrow raised. She looked past him with a smile. "Hi, Sofia." She greeted. "How are you?"

"I'm fine." Sofia replied cheerfully. "You?"

"I can't complain." The Irish woman replied. Then she turned back to Nico. "You've been ignoring me."

"I...I have no idea what you're talking about." Nico denied.

"Really?" She asked. "Then where's your message rune?"

"I, uh..." Nico began. Mallory sighed. Then she tapped on the green stone that was resting across her neck. A green glow emanated from Nico's back pocket. "Oh, so that's where I put it." He said, feigning innocence.

"Ugh. _Amadán_." She muttered. "Well, get your arse moving. We have work to do."

"Aw, c'mon, Mal." Nico complained. "Can't I have one romantic date with my girlfriend without something cutting it short?"

"Nope." Mallory said.

Nico groaned. "Come on, I can't run off and leave my girlfriend to pay for everything."

"Actually, you can." Sofia replied. "I can afford to pay for both our meals. Now go save the world, bud."

Nico glanced at his girlfriend with a look of incredulity. "Really?" He asked.

Mallory grabbed his arm. "Let's go, loser." With that, she pulled him out of his chair.

"Alright." He sighed, grabbing his fedora from the corner of his chair. "Here we go again."

* * *

"So, mind explainin' to me what in _Inferno_ is so important that you ruined my date?" Nico asked as Mallory led him through town.

"Aye." She replied. "But it can wait. Where are Thomas and Piper?"

"The hell should I know where they are?" Nico asked, readjusting his hat. "I thought they were with you."

"Well," Mallory replied, turning back to face him. "Last I checked, Piper was with you. Care to explain what that's all about?"

Nico shrugged. "She said she had something personal to do. Wouldn't give me the details."

Mallory pinched the bridge of her nose. "Ach, you've got to be kidding me." She muttered. "Alright," She said out loud. "But I'd still like to know where Thomas is."

"Probably chasing a cat up a tree or somethin'." Nico suggested. Then he caught sight of his reflection in one of the shop windows, and set about readjusting his hair. "Gods, I look like crap."

"Well, _he_ actually responded to my call, unlike you." Mallory continued, folding her arms.

"Here's the thing, Mal." Nico replied, ruffling his hair. "You still haven't made an effort to tell me what the big deal is."

Mallory sighed. "Could you please just try to let me know if you can't talk right away?" She asked. "I was worried you were in trouble."

"Heh," Nico chuckled. "When you're in a relationship, you're always in trouble. Women tend to have it easy figuring out how their men operate. They're scary like that."

"Damn right." Mallory smirked.

Nico sighed as he finished cleaning up his hair. "Alright, Mal. I'll let you know if something comes up next time." He pointed a finger gun at her. "Just don't get your shamrocks in a shake, alright?"

"Was that you trying to be racist, or sexist?" Mallory asked, raising an eyebrow.

Nico smirked playfully. "Whichever pisses you off more, Mal." He withdrew a small box from his back pocket, pulling a cigarette out of it. "So," He continued as he flicked his thumb against the edge of his fist, a small flame igniting on the tip of his thumb. Lighting the cigarette, he took a breath. "Care to fill me in on what you've decided is so important now?"

Mallory sighed. "Fine." She said. "Remember that snowstorm from a few months ago?"

"The one that struck up in Norway?" Nico asked, taking a pull of the cigarette in his mouth. "Yeah. What about it?"

"You don't find anything particularly unusual about it?" Mallory asked.

Nico took a moment to think it over, letting out another puff of cigarette smoke. "Now that you mention it, it was in the middle of June." He said. "Pretty weird time, too. Almost like it wasn't...ohhh." His eyes widened in realization. Mallory simply nodded. "Wait a minute, wait a minute. You're telling me that you think a bunch of cryomancers have been hiding out in Scandinavia?"

"No." Mallory said, shaking her head. "Just one."

Nico sputtered, nearly dropping his cigarette. "Are you gonna tell me that one person did all that? _Alone?_"

Mallory nodded. "Yep."

Nico's eyes widened. "You serious?" He said.

"As a heart attack." Mallory replied.

Nico tapped on his cigarette to clear the ashes away before taking another drag from it. "So, I'm guessing the plan is to find this cryomancer and recruit them before tall, grim and stupid finds 'em first, right?"

"Pretty much." Mallory nodded, shrugging.

"Well, shit." Nico muttered, puffing smoke out of his mouth. "And how do you propose the four of us are gonna find this guy?"

"Actually," Mallory replied. "Bryce already told me who it is we're looking for."

"Yeah?" Nico asked, taking a breath. "Who's our target?"

"The queen of Arendelle." Mallory answered.

Nico was silent for several breaths, before a puff of cigarette smoke came out of his nose. "Well, ain't that just lovely." He muttered. "And what do you plan on telling her when we get there? "Hi, we're magic wielders just like you, and there's this crazy guy running around terrorizing the continent with his crazy magic powers, and we'd really appreciate your help in taking him out." D'You really think it's gonna be that easy?"

"I'd certainly like for it to be that easy." Mallory sighed.

The Italian man chuckled. "Are you sure this ain't just another one of your attempts to find the right woman for you?"

"Oh, give me a break, Nickolas," Mallory replied.

"What?" Nico asked. "What could be so bad about marrying a queen?"

"I can think of a few things," Mallory said. "First, she needs to marry a royal. And I'm as common folk as they get."

"I never understood the logic behind that." Nico pointed out. "They're perfectly okay with marrying their first cousins, but commoners? Nah. That whole "marrying royals only" shit makes about as much sense as my crazy uncle."

"Well, there's also the issue of producing an heir," Mallory added.

"So?" Nico asked.

Mallory turned to glare at him. "In case you've forgotten, Salentino, I don't have the right parts to provide her with an heir."

"What about that fancy magic wishing stone you're always talking about?" Nico suggested. "Why not just find it and wish that she could have a baby?"

"I told you, I don't know where it is," She replied. "Besides, I'm not even sure she'd even like me."

"You kidding?" Nico asked. "You practically have girls drooling over you. What makes you think you won't at least be her friend?"

Mallory just sighed. "I'm surprised you're not worried," She said. "You know, with you being a pyromancer and all."

"True," Nico admitted. "But I've got charisma in spades. That should more than make up for it."

Mallory scoffed. "Whatever, lover boy," She said. "Let's just find Piper."

"Shouldn't be too hard." Nico said, flicking the stub of his cigarette to the ground. "Just look for a pile of unconscious idiots, and she shouldn't be too far away."

Mallory's eyebrows furrowed as she looked down to where the stub had landed, before glaring up at Nico. "Seriously?"

"Ugh," Nico growled. "Fine. Whatever you say, mom." He walked over and picked up the burnt stump, pinching it in his index finger and thumb. With a wave of his hand, the charred stub burst into a puff of smoke, lost in the wind.

"That's much better," Mallory smiled. Then their attention was drawn to a young boy running up to them.

"Hey, you guys!" He shouted in an excited voice. "There's a fight going on in the Town Center!" Without giving them a chance to ask what was happening, he ran off to tell more people about it. The two magic wielders exchanged a look.

"That's gotta be her," Nico said. Mallory simply ran past him to follow the townsfolk, Nico following behind her.

* * *

They arrived to see a crowd of people gathered in the center of town. The uproar of the masses clashed with the distinct sounds of metal blades cutting the air, striking each other in a frenzy comparable to a thunderstorm. The Irish woman tapped on one boy's shoulder. "Excuse me," She said, despite the cacophony. "But could you tell me what's going on?"

The boy turned to her. "Some lady in greek robes started attacking that guy. Next thing I know, they're going at it with those swords."

Mallory exchanged a look with Nico, and with a nod, they both pushed their way towards the center of the crowd, occasionally apologizing to the nearest person as they passed. Eventually, the two found themselves looking at the two combatants. "Ah, _Críost_. Not again," She grumbled.

She wasn't really focusing on the other guy. Her attention was on the woman. She was in a greek robe, with her sandy blonde hair tied up in a ponytail. She had a shield in one hand and a blade in the other, blocking and countering her opponent's every move. Her opponent, a tanned man wielding a flamberge, was already showing signs of fatigue. Mallory made a move to stop the fight, only to feel a hand on her shoulder.

"Are you crazy?" Nico asked, turning her around to face him. "It's just getting interesting."

Mallory furrowed her brow at him. "That's why I need to stop this," She replied, pointing at the Greek woman. "Can't you see the look in her eye? She's going to kill him!"

Nico looked past her at the woman in the fight, and sure enough, her eye was bright red. "Oh, shit!" He shouted, his own eyes widening. He pointed to the fight. Mallory's head whipped around. The woman had forced the man to the ground, batting his sword away with her shield. The crowd gasped as she raised her own blade, ready to cut his head off. With a battle cry, she swung her blade down and...

"Piper!"

Immediately, she froze, the tip of her blade resting against the man's throat. She glared back at Mallory, as if only just realizing that the Irish woman was there, arms crossed at her chest. She blinked a few times, and her eye changed back to its normal silver. Mallory shook her head.

Piper turned to the man at her feet, glaring at him. "Get out of my sight," She spat. "If I ever catch sight of you again, you'd better hope to Olympus that one of them is with me." She gestured to Mallory and Nico. "I won't be so merciful next time." Before he could move, she nicked the tip of her blade against his cheek, drawing blood. "A little reminder of who very nearly killed you today." With that, she stepped aside as the man grabbed his sword, stuffing it away in its sheath before running away through the gap in the crowd. Mallory and Nico stepped forward.

"Alright, people, party's over," Nico shouted, and the crowd began to disperse. "You don't gotta go home, but ya can't stay here."

As the crowd thinned out, Mallory turned to the one-eyed woman. "What the fuck was that all about?" She asked, her voice rising slightly.

Piper didn't even flinch. "He and his buddies were harassing a young woman." She explained, matching Mallory's tone. "They were all either drunk or on the verge, so they weren't in any condition to be accosting anyone."

"If they were drunk, then why'd you try to kill that guy?" Nico asked, as the last of the spectators moved on.

"Alcohol is no excuse for that kind of behavior." Piper answered darkly.

"That doesn't mean you can kill a man in front of a crowd." Mallory replied, placing a hand on her friend's shoulder. Piper's single gray eye locked with Mallory's own blue ones.

The Greek woman sighed. "You're right." She admitted. "It's just...argh..."

"No, no, I get it." Mallory replied, her voice softer. "You see something like that happening to someone, and you just want to step in. I understand."

"Besides, if he could hold his own with that big ass sword while drunk, you had to have been holding back." Nico added.

Piper suddenly seemed sheepish. "You're right." She confessed. "I just got caught up in the moment. I hadn't wanted to kill him. If I had, he'd already be dead." She sighed again, reaching up to the patch covering her right eye socket. "I'm sorry."

Mallory offered a lopsided grin as she pulled Piper into a hug. "Don't be sorry." She said softly. "Be better."

"I know, Mal." Piper replied, as she returned the hug. "I'm trying. But whenever I see something like that happening, I think of..._him_...and my blood starts boiling."

Mallory drummed her fingers against Piper's back. "I know." She assured. "But he can't hurt you anymore, Pipes. If he so much as shows his face again, we can just sic Thomas on him."

"No." Piper replied sharply, pulling away from the hug. "When he shows his face again, I'm going to be the one to do him in. You know how personal this is to me."

"Alright." Mallory sighed. "I can respect that."

"By the way," Piper added. "Where is Thomas anyway?"

"No clue." Mallory shrugged. "But I know he's on his way. Also, what was so personal that you left Nico alone?"

Piper raised an eyebrow. "What are you talking about, Mallory?" She asked. "I was just minding my own business with him, then the next thing I know, he's gone. I was looking all over town for him when I saw that jerk with the flamberge."

"Why you little liar!" Nickolas shouted.

"It's true." Piper insisted. "He saw Sofia and his bits did all the thinking."

"LIES!" Nico replied. "LIES AND SLANDER!"

Mallory raised an eyebrow. "Really, Pipes?" She asked.

Piper maintained her straight face for another few seconds before breaking down laughing. "I'm kidding. I'm the one who wandered off."

Mallory sighed. "So," Piper continued. "What did you need me for?"

"Pack your snow boots and earmuffs, Pipes." The Irish woman replied. "We're heading north."

"Really?" Piper asked. "Why?"

"Remember that freak snowstorm from a few months ago?"

"Yeah." Piper replied, folding her arms. "What about it?"

"That wasn't no freak accident." Nico replied.

Piper raised an eyebrow. "A group of cryomancers is hiding out in Norway?"

Mallory shook her head. "Nope." She said. "Just one."

Piper frowned. "You're joking."

"Nah, she ain't." Nico added. "Apparently, it's the queen of some city called Arendelle."

"I see." Piper said, pausing to take in what her friends were saying. Then she turned to Mallory. "So what you're saying, is that you have a massive crush."

Nico burst out laughing, and Mallory blushed. "Sh-shut up!" She huffed. "I do not have a crush on the queen. I haven't even met her."

"Oh, I've seen a lot of Scandinavian babes in my day, chief." Nico chuckled. "They are tall, they are smart, and they are _hot!_" He put extra emphasis on the word "Hot". Piper smirked.

"I will knock you out so fast." Mallory warned.

"Bring it on, fool!" Nico challenged.

Piper cleared her throat. "I'm guessing you want to recruit this queen before Baldur does, right?"

Mallory turned back to the Greek woman. "Aye." She said. "Just need to wait for Thomas. Then we can hitch a ride with Bryce's cousin and we'll be in business. Speaking of which, have either of you seen him in the past three days?"

"I have not." Piper answered. "Have you, Nico?"

"Nuh uh." Nico replied, shrugging. "Haven't seen the big guy since Spain."

"That was a month ago." Piper clarified.

"Yeah, exactly." Nico answered. "He still doesn't want to talk to me after what happened."

"Why?" Mallory asked. "What happened in Spain?"

Nico chuckled. "I don't think I'm in a position to give you too much detail at the moment."

"Well then, what's the short version?" Mallory asked.

Nico smiled cheekily. "It involves his other side, a pretty girl, and several tons of beef." He replied, grinning like an idiot. "You do the math."

The Irish woman pondered his words for a moment. Then it clicked in her head. "Oh, sweet daisies." She groaned, burying her face in her hand. "And how did you factor into that exactly?"

"That's a story for another time." Nico smirked.

"Tell anyone that story, and I'll break both your bloody legs." Came a voice from behind them. Approaching the group was a young man with chestnut brown hair.

"Hey, Thomas." Mallory greeted.

"'Ello, Mal." He replied.

"It's about time you decided to show up," Piper said, crossing her arms.

"Eh, wanted to be fashionably late," He shrugged.

Nico chuckled. "Well you're certainly one of those, big guy." The British man fixed the shorter man with a glare. "I'm kidding." Nico added, throwing his hands up defensively, earning a huff from the wolf man.

"Well," Thomas continued, turning back to Mallory. "Now that we're all here, what's the plan, boss?"

"Nico said the guys he rescued from that detention center in Synvait should be here soon, right?" She turned to the fire-wielder.

"Ideally, yeah," Nico responded. "But you know them. They take their sweet time."

"I suppose so," The Irish amazon shrugged. "I was planning on stationing them here in Alcara, in case Baldur decides to attack."

"You reckon the mates would stand a chance?" Thomas asked innocently, earning shocked glares from his teammates. "What? It was an honest question."

"Well, to answer your question," Mallory replied. "I do. They might have a few screws loose, but they have it where it counts."

"Alright," Thomas nodded, content with that answer. "I was just asking 'cause I remember us gettin' our asses handed to us the last time we all fought him at once."

"That was because we were still fighting as individuals," Piper added, not wanting to be left out of the conversation. "As opposed to a singular unit. Nico was still too reckless, I was still too focused on vengeance, and you still didn't have full control over your other half. Mallory was the only one who lasted more than ten seconds."

"He still smashed her head against the street and launched her through a house," Nico added, recalling their disastrous first encounter with the Storm King as a team. "Sure, it didn't do much to her, but that _incubo_ still hits like a goddamn avalanche."

"Well," Mallory added, not entirely proud of how thoroughly she'd been wiped out by the master of destruction. "That's because we weren't used to fighting as a team. I'm certain that we'll be ready for him next time."

"Well said, boss." Thomas applauded, clapping her on the shoulder. "Now let's find Bryce's cousin and..." He paused, sniffing the air. Even in his usual attire, his senses were sharper than those of most regular humans. He was immediately on alert.

"What's wrong, bro?" Nico asked, even as he reached for his whip.

"We got company." Was all he said in response.

The girls fell into their respective battle stances, with Mallory raising her fists and Piper summoning Thárros and Krísi. Nico pulled out his whip but didn't unfurl it. Then a bat flying past them caught his attention. He spun around and swung his whip, igniting it. The arc of flame surged through the air and knocked the bat out of the air, causing it to crash into the roof of a building.

The four turned to where the bat landed. A second later, it rose on its hind legs, and transformed into a human male. One with a black scorch mark slashed across his jacket in a diagonal line from his left shoulder.

"A Nightstalker..." Piper noted with surprise, turning to the fire-wielder. "How did you know?"

Nico smirked. "I've never seen a bat that big in this part of the world, especially not one flying around in broad daylight."

"You're certainly clever, Salentino." The Nightstalker applauded. "But I'm afraid it can only get you so far."

"Who are you?" Mallory asked, curling her fingers in her fists.

"Ah, straight to the point as always," The man chuckled. "Just as the Storm King promised."

"He's one of the Crimson Army's goons." Piper seethed, leveling Krísi at the man.

"Oh, please," The man said dismissively. "Yes, the Storm King employed my services, but I have no love for him or his delusions of grandeur." Then he turned back to Mallory. "As for you, my dear Irish beauty, my name is Alastor."

"Just what we need." Nico muttered. "A bounty hunter."

"Tch." Alastor replied. "I think the time for talking is over." With that, he launched himself directly at Mallory, unsheathing a longsword. Mallory batted the weapon away with her right arm, then immediately hooked his left leg under her arm as he tried to kick her with it. She was caught off guard, however, as he leapt up and drove his free leg into her abdomen, sending her backwards.

In response to the stunned look on her face, he smirked. "Baldur told me you would be particularly difficult to deal with," He explained, just as Piper lunged at him with her blade. He leapt above her and landed on her shield with the grace of a cat. He stared her directly in her eye, and was about to retaliate when something wrapped around his midriff. With a grunt, Nico pulled, yanking the Nightstalker off Thárros and flinging him into a wall. The bounty hunter didn't stay down long, and immediately changed targets to the Italian fire-wielder. Nico quickly summoned his fire blades and lashed out, only for Alastor to smash the heel of his foot into the side of Nico's face. Just as Nico went down, Piper charged again, locking blades with the Nightstalker.

"Do you really think you can last against me?" Alastor asked.

"That's the idea." Piper grunted, pushing back against him. As their blades clashed again, Thomas chose that moment to began walking around until he was behind the bounty hunter. As silently as possible, he slid the silver dagger from its sheath, and exchanged a glance with Piper. Their eyes met for a moment, and he sent her a silent nod.

She got the message, and caught Alastor's sword with Thárros. She followed it up with a knee to his groin. Much to her surprise, it didn't have the intended effect. He merely stared at her with an unimpressed look. "Please," He sighed, supposedly disappointed with her uncouth attack. "This isn't a bar fight. Have some class." She grit her teeth and followed it up by smashing her head against his. Thankfully, that did the trick, as Alastor staggered back, gripping at his temples.

Thomas saw that as his opportunity to strike, charging forward. He raised the dagger, aiming for the man's sword arm, only for the bounty hunter to smack the knife out of his hand and thrust his sword into the Englishman's abdomen. Thomas lurched as the blade penetrated his skin.

Alastor smirked. "How predictable," He droned. "Such a shame." Much to his surprise, Thomas gripped the man's sword arm tightly.

"You shouldn't have done that, mate." Thomas taunted. He closed his eyes and focused on his magic. On cue, his body began to change, even with the sword still stabbed in his gut. He grew taller, hairier, and stronger, as his skin took on a silvery gray and white hue. His face elongated into a distinctly lupine snout, his ears becoming more dog like. His clothes remained undamaged, but they were definitely a tighter fit now.

At the shocked look Alastor was sending him, Thomas chuckled. "What's wrong, mate?" He asked, his voice significantly more gruff. "Didn't Baldur tell you bout this?" Not waiting for a response, he wound up and punched Alastor in the face, knocking the man to the ground. He pulled the sword from his gut and tossed it aside. As Alastor rose to his feet, Thomas slugged him across the face again, before following up with a swipe across his right cheek, and finishing it up by grabbing Alastor and tossing him into a wall. Alastor recovered quickly, transforming into a bat again and flying around Thomas in a circle. He shifted back into human form, picking his sword up from the ground and driving his knee into the Lycan's face.

Thomas grunted as Alastor hit him in the stomach, then in the chest, and finally the head. The wolf man staggered backwards, wiping blood from his maw. Alastor smirked, and was about to keep at it when his senses alerted him to something coming at him from behind. He spun around in time to deflect Thárros, which Piper had flung at him.

It still had the effect that Thomas was hoping for, and he leaped forward, drop kicking Alastor in the back. The longsword once again was flung from his grip, and this time, Piper called on her magic to summon both the sword and her own shield back to her.

Alastor grunted as he staggered back to his feet. He wheeled around, ready to punch Thomas again, when something to his left caught his attention. He had just enough time to turn before Mallory plowed into him.

"I'll give you one last chance to buzz off." She warned, cracking her neck.

"Don't worry, O'Dain." Alastor replied. "It'll be over soon."

"Alright." Mallory replied with a shrug, before cracking her knuckles. "You asked for it."

He struck first, aiming a punch at her face. She brought her hands up in defense, but he managed to avoid shattering the bones in his hands by pulling the punch just enough. Nonetheless, she retaliated by punching him in the stomach. She followed it up with a few quick jabs to the chest, a left hook to the ribs, and finally a direct strike to the face.

Alastor went flailing through the air uncontrollably, before crashing into the ground. With a grunt, he rose to his feet, as Mallory advanced on him. His eyes flashed red as his sword returned to his hand. He brought it up in defense just as her fist connected with the metal. She landed a few more punches, growing more frustrated with each punch that the metal wasn't breaking, before he retaliated with a swift kick to her stomach.

As she slid backwards, he twirled his blade in a show of theatrics. "I must say," He said. "When Baldur told me you'd be difficult to deal with, I was expecting a challenge. Safe to say that I'm disappointed."

Mallory wiped the spit from her lip. "I'm just getting started," She replied confidently.

"Then I'm sorry I have to finish this so soon," Alastor answered. He surged forward, bringing his sword down on her. What caught him by surprise was when he saw the end of his blade caught in her hand. She looked up at him and smirked. Then she yanked on the sword, pulling him off balance. He didn't have time before her fist drilled into his abdomen, knocking the wind out of him.

He was sent into the air before being intercepted by Thomas, who tackled the Nightstalker through the air. The disoriented bounty hunter tumbled head over heels. Just as he rose to his feet, Piper swung her arm out, smacking him in the face with Thárros and sending him to the ground again. Nico leaped into the air and slammed his hand into the cobblestone. A pillar of flames rose from the ground below Alastor, sending him skyward.

"Springboard!" Mallory shouted. Thomas immediately grabbed her under one arm, as Piper crouched down. As Thomas' large frame landed on her shield, she shot to full height, launching the Lycan and the amazon into the air. Just as gravity began to take effect, Thomas hooked his arms under hers and tossed her further into the air. She rose above Alastor and smashed him back to the ground with a powerful punch.

The Nightstalker was sent directly into the cobblestone with a loud thud. Mallory landed, brushing the dust from her shoulder. "You're heavier than I remember, Mal."

"Eh," She shrugged. "I had a big breakfast."

"That was awesome!" Nico yelled. He pumped his fist before raising his hand. The other three magic wielders obliged, each giving him a high-five. Their reverie was cut short when Alastor rose to his feet.

"Ugh," He groaned. "You four really are something, aren't you? Well, I'm sorry I have to cut your party short, but I have a job to do. So let's finish-" He didn't get to complete his thoughts before Thomas reached over and grabbed him by the leg, slamming him into the ground several times before laying him out on the cobblestone. Alastor just stared up into the sky in shock, barely able to breathe.

Thomas huffed as he walked back over to his friends. "Puny man." He muttered.

After a moment, Alastor got up again, and glared at them. "You win this round, kids," He grunted, brushing bits of cobblestone dust from his clothes. "But trust me when I say that Baldur isn't going to let this slide so easily." With that, he transformed into a bat again and snatched his sword, flying off to who-knows-where.

Thomas huffed as the Nightstalker disappeared. "Good riddance." He grunted. Then he winced as the wound in his gut stung again.

"Oh, jeez, you okay, man?" Nico asked, eyes widening when he saw the gash in Thomas' abdomen.

"I'm fine." Thomas said, as the wound began to heal. "T'is but a flesh wound."

"I wasn't expecting Baldur to stoop so low as to send bounty hunters after us." Piper added. "Usually, if he wants us dead, he tries to do it himself."

"He must be busy doing whatever it is he has plans for with the south shore." Nico shrugged.

"You implying he doesn't have time to deal with us himself anymore?" Thomas asked.

"I guess so." Nico shrugged.

Mallory sighed. "Well, it doesn't matter," She said. "Finding the queen of Arendelle and keeping her from falling into Baldur's clutches takes priority."

"I'm sure it does, chief." Nico chimed in, a mischievous grin on his face. He snickered at the dirty look the Irishwoman was sending him.

"Regardless," Piper interjected, in hopes of averting the beat down she was certain Mallory was about to give Nico. "I agree with Mallory that we should probably get going as soon as we can. The sooner we get to Arendelle, the better."

"Agreed," Thomas nodded.

Mallory sighed, still irritated with Nico's behavior. "Right, then," She said after a moment. "Nico?"

"Yeah, boss?" He asked, standing ramrod straight with a salute.

"Tell Archie and the rest of your crew that they can stay here and keep an eye on things," Mallory instructed. "As for the rest of you, meet me at the docks. We're going to Arendelle."

**A/N: So, that's it. I'll hold off on writing the main story for a while so I can go back to some of my other stories.**

**Anyway, to clarify, Nightstalkers are like vampires, but at the same time, they're not. I'll go into more detail in the main story.**

**Translations:**

**_Bella Rosa:_ Beautiful Rose (Italian)**

**_Saluti:_ Cheers! (Italian)**

**_Amadán:_ Dumbass (Irish)**

**_Inferno:_ Hell (Italian)**

**_Críost:_ Christ (Irish)**

**_Incubo:_ Nightmare (Italian)**


End file.
